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Is it that obvious?
Daddy was always walking straight behind my mother, cleaning up her messes. Telling me how beautiful I was and making up excuses for her. He still wanted what was best for me, but that didn't mean he needed to tear me down in the process. My father has very conservative views and is very religious. However, he believes that you shouldn't judge others. Unlike my mother, if someone is doing something that doesn't directly affect his life, he lets them be. She is the complete opposite, but miraculously my father loves her enough to put up with her shit.
Do not be fooled though, Adam is the treasured child when it comes down to it, and I'm the black sheep.
"Jameson is back," I blurt, knowing she will find out, and I don't want the fall out of her thinking I lied to her.
"What!" She cries, "You have to come home, now. He can't find out about Ellison. He isn't what she needs, Hanna."
I try to stifle a laugh, "It's too late, mom. He knew the second he looked at her. She's nearly six years old. He was going to put it together."
"This has trouble written all over it!" She yells, "You need to think about Ellison."
Her scolding me like I'm not thinking about the only thing that makes my world turn pisses me off. "You don't think I have Ellison's best interest in mind? Ellie doesn't even know Jameson is her father, but if I decide to tell her, then that is my choice. I am her mother."
Mom goes silent, realizing that she invoked my mama bear monster, "Honey, I know that. I just worry about you being so far away."
No. She worries about me falling for Jameson. Loving him the same way that I so desperately did six years ago.
We say our goodbyes, and I toss the phone down on the table, rattling mine and Eric's plates.
"You alright?" He asks, reaching for my hand, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb over its back.
"Yeah, just remembering why I left home."
He stands to put his plate in the sink, kissing my temple.
I left home for college, and then I left home again for the job here at Legacy High. I had to go to escape the constant watch and control of my mother. No matter how hard she tries, though, she can't control this. She doesn't control me or any of my relationships. Not anymore. I have to learn how to let her words go in one ear and out the other, but that's easier said than done.
18 Years Old
"What are you doing here?" I bark, my arms crossed over my chest in the middle of the front porch.
"Last night, it's not what you think." He stammers, stumbling over his words.
"It never is, Jay. It's always an excuse with you."
He's popular, gorgeous and the star of the football team. I don't really know what I expected. When I moved in with him, I knew that girls would be falling at his feet and sleeping in his bed. I never dreamed the first day I walked through the doors that his lips would be on mine. I fell for him, though. Hard. And despite all the sirens that go off in my head, especially when other girls wonder why he likes me, I still want him.
"Baby, I love you. I want to be here with you. Fuck, I wanted to come with you yesterday."
I scoff, "You didn't, though, did you? You always do this, Jameson. I always come second to the bottle and your friends."
He begins to pace, shoving his hand back through his hair, "It's not like that. I met up with my dad yesterday."
Shit.
"I thought Judson said that was a bad idea," I ask, blowing out a sigh before sinking into one of the Cracker Barrel rocking chairs my mom insisted we needed six of.
"Yeah, well, Judson is in Atlanta, and he wouldn't leave me alone."
"Why didn't you just tell him no?"
I've spent a couple months with Jameson, and if there is one thing I know for sure, it's that he doesn't like to upset his brother. He remains quiet, blowing out a ragged breath, his mind clearly somewhere else.
"Well, are you okay?" I ask, my hands going straight for his cheeks, trying to get him to look at me. This interaction isn't new, he withdraws like this a lot, and I'm always the one to reign him back in.
"I'm alright," he sighs, "you know I love you, right?"
